Latest news with #gameshow
The Sun
5 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
BBC star left flummoxed by tricky Celebrity Catchphrase puzzle – but could you solve it?
BBC Sport presenter Mark Chapman was left scratching his head on Celebrity Catchphrase after struggling to guess a well-known saying in the final round. Viewers were shouting at their telly screens as the well-known face stumbled over a baffling brainteaser in the final round. 2 2 Mark appeared on the ITV gameshow hosted by Stephen Mulhern in a bid to raise money for charity. After making it through to the final round, Mark had his skills put to one final test, going against the clock to answer questions on the catchphrase pyramid. The 51-year-old, best known for hosting Match of the Day 2 and BBC Radio 5 Live, was left stumbling over his words as the clock ticked down. But would you have any luck? In the clue, Mr Chips was filling up his white van with petrol. The gauge went from E for empty to full, which had an icon of a brown cowboy hat. Mark made several unsuccessful guesses from 'full gallon' to 'filling the tank' to 'one gallon hat'. Do you get it? The answer was: It's full to the brim. Mark was unfortunately unable to figure it out in the timeframe, though he didn't go home empty-handed, earning an incredible £14,000 for his chosen charity. Watch as Celebrity Catchphrase star flounders over tricky puzzle and misses out on big money Mark and Kelly Cates were announced as Gary Lineker 's Match of the Day replacements in January, with Gabby Logan making up the new-look trio. Lineker's BBC exit has sparked a battle between his three successors over who will lead the World Cup coverage, SunSport exclusively revealed. Insiders said that the three also be competing to take the main presenting job for next year's FA Cup Final. Top 10 earners at the BBC MOTD Star Gary Lineker retained his place as top earner for another year Gary Lineker - £1.35million Zoe Ball - £515,000 - cut from £950,000 Alan Shearer - £440,000 - up from £380,000 Greg James - £425,000 - up from £415,000 Fiona Bruce - £410,000 - up from £405,000 AND Nick Robinson - £410,000 - up from £345,000 Stephen Nolan - £405,000 Laura Kuenssberg - £395,000 - up from £325,000 Vernon Kay - £390,000 - up from £320,000 Justin Webb - £365,000 - up from £320,000 Naga Munchetty - £355,000 - up from £345,000 Lineker earned a staggering FOUR TIMES more than his Match of the Day successor Mark Chapman last season. The BBC have published their annual salaries list, with Lineker, 64, far and away their top earner in 2023-24. The former England striker spent 26 years as MOTD host and saw his pay reach a whopping £1.35 million per year. Mark pocketed a cool £325,000 last year for his work with the BBC, which included 120 episodes of Radio 5 Live, the Olympics, Euro 2024 and, of course, Match of the Day 2. Despite his array of stellar work, 'Chappers' earned more than £1m LESS than his MOTD predecessor, Lineker - who officially quit the BBC in June - last year alone.
The Sun
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Patsy Kensit signs up for ‘terrifying' BBC gig with former Corrie star after quitting Celeb SAS
PATSY Kensit has filmed a major BBC gameshow just days after it was revealed she was forced to quit Celebrity SAS: Who Dares Wins. The former EastEnders star, 57, broke her shoulder while training for the gruelling C4 reality show and was sent home by production after flying to Morocco to film. 5 Her next project is nowhere near as daring, though she has branded it "terrifying". Patsy revealed she signed up to appear on a celebrity edition of The Weakest Link. The actress shared a snap of herself on the train to Glasgow, where the show is filmed, alongside the caption: 'On my way up the road to glorious Glasgow with a broken shoulder, no make up but not a broken spirit! To film the Weakest Link. I'm terrified.' She then shared a behind-the-scenes snap from the show's iconic set, writing: 'who is the weakest link????' Also filming the BBC quiz series was Coronation Street legend Colson Smith. The actor, who recently bowed out of the show after more than 13 years in the role of Craig Tinker, posted a snap of his dressing room at the show's Glasgow based set. There was no sign of the sling Patsy has recently been pictured wearing in her Instagram upload. An insider told us that her injury was caused by a painful fall. They said: ' Patsy had been running at pace on a treadmill while wearing a weighted backpack filled with books and weights as part of her intense training regime. 'The added weight caused her to lose balance and fall backwards off the machine, bruising her arm and shoulder in the process. Liam Gallagher's ex wife Patsy Kensit reveals if she will be going to see Oasis tonight as reunion tour kicks off 'She even flew out to Morocco, where the filming was taking place, but production soon spotted the injury and she was sent home.' Her agent was grateful that production spotted the injury and she is now recuperating in the UK. Patsy spoke briefly of the injury after she was spotted wearing a sling at the theatre. She shared: "I broke my shoulder in 3 places 3 weeks ago!!! I'm healing and a slight boogie with my besties I'm staying with this week will be a tonic for sure …' The actress, who has son Lennon with Liam Gallagher, revealed she won't be attending any of her ex's Oasis reunion shows. She told GMB: "My 24-year-old son, he'll be there and he'll have a lovely time. "Great for him to see all of that and I'm happy for his dad, I think it's a wonderful thing." But she said: "I won't be attending." The actress added: "I send only love and light." Patsy and Liam were married for three years from 1997 until 2000, and welcomed their son Lennon in 1999. 5 5
The Sun
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
TV presenter left ‘frustrated' over tricky Celebrity Catchphrase questions – could you outsmart her?
A PROMINENT TV presenter was left 'frustrated' over some tricky Celebrity Catchphrase questions. Stephen Mulhern has welcomed many star names into his shiny floor ITV studio. 7 7 One of whom was BBC Breakfast anchor Naga Munchetty, 50, who had previously appeared in an edition on ITVX. Although she's best known for her role on the morning show, she also presents a show three times a week on BBC Radio 5 Live. Naga was named the fourth highest-paid woman at the beeb, and despite her high-profile role, she competed on the ITV gameshow. She played against the likes of Mo Gilligan and Joanna Page on Celebrity Catchphrase to raise money for charity. The magazine show presenter ended up reaching the final pyramid round to win money for both her own choice and more for the other competitors' charities. However, she was left "frustrated" when she struggled to answer a number of questions in the sixty second time limit. One of the clips showed the show's Mr Chips character running through a word-shaped cloud that read 'breath'. As he reached the end of the word, the animated character was seen to be panting heavily. Naga exclaimed: "Taking a breather! Taking a breath! Running through breath. Breathless." She added: "Breathe easy, erm... pass," to no avail as she was forced to move onto the next image riddle. Gary Lineker tops BBC best-paid list with Naga Munchetty among biggest earners amid 'bullying' row as salaries revealed After wasting 18 seconds on the question, she had to move onto a different clip on the pyramid. In the end, she did get the second challenge on the level correct as she won £10,000. However, she did not win money for the other charities nor reach the top of the pyramid as Naga missed out on the whopping £50,000 jackpot. As the time ran out, Stephen turned to the competitor for her reaction as he remarked: "You look frustrated." To which Naga furiously replied: "I'm so frustrated. But look, £10,000 for a charity is so important. But I'm so frustrated." As the presenter reminded Naga that she had to pass on the number 11, she added: "I'm so upset about that. Because I really wanted to double Joanna and Mo's money." When the presenter revealed that the answer was of course 'out of breath' she said: "Oh I said breathless but I didn't say out of breath!" In the round she also struggled to answer another riddle which represented the following phrase; 'hit the road.' I'm so frustrated. But look, £10,000 for a charity is so important. But I'm so frustrated Naga MunchettyCelebrity Catchphrase, ITVX At the end of the game she seemed completely aghast as she admitted: "I said 'hit the ground running', didn't I?" 7 7 7 7 Celebrity Catchphrase is available to stream now on ITVX.
Telegraph
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Julian Clary: The BBC banned me from saying ‘lesbian' before 9pm
Julian Clary did Blankety Blank recently. Or rather, he returned to Blankety Blank, 35 years after he first appeared on Les Dawson's version, when he played in full make-up and pearls beside Danny LaRue and the Liver Birds' Polly James. On the off chance that you've not stumbled into the gameshow's latest iteration, the host has obviously changed – 'it's now that man from The Chase,' Clary says, meaning Bradley Walsh – but the format's much the same. Ribaldry, innuendo and nonsense are encouraged. Clary, then, is a natural. 'Beforehand I was told, 'This is family viewing, mind what you say', which is fine,' he says, today. At one point Walsh offered the following statement for guests to complete: 'If you want to convince someone that you're highly intelligent, tell them you're a world authority on *blank *.' 'They stopped the recording and told me to tone it down' 'I don't know why, but I put 'LESBIANS',' Clary says. At that point, 'they had to stop the whole recording to tell me to tone it down a bit.' Recounting this, he clinks his cappuccino into its saucer, then looks closer to crestfallen than indignant. 'I still don't understand why you can't say 'lesbians' on television before nine o'clock. Is there any reason for that?' He sighs. 'I think they're just so nervous now, so worried about what might offend someone, somewhere...' We're sitting in the garden of Clary's local pub in Camden, north London, reflecting on all that's changed since he first moved here as a young comic, some four decades ago. At that time, in the mid-1980s, Clary brightened up the nation by sashaying onto the scene, wearing what Quentin Crisp called 'as much make-up as the human face will allow', and immediately began testing the limits of what's acceptable. With his preternatural talent for double entendre – 'Ah, there's nothing I like more than a warm hand on my entrance,' he used to open with – and commitment to waspish camp, invariably he found those limits, kept going and gleefully danced on the other side. Infamously, he once went too far, when he took to the stage at the 1993 British Comedy Awards and claimed to have been 'fisting' the Tory chancellor, Norman Lamont (who was in the audience with his wife) backstage. Society, and television, has changed since those days. We're less buttoned-up, but far more cautious with it. Now, the edgy, what-will-they-say-next comedy of something like Saturday Live, where Clary's generation – including Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Harry Enfield – were incubated, barely exists on TV. 'There's not much, is there?' he says. 'Channel 4 was our natural home, when that was new and dynamic. I don't know what there is now that's equivalent to that.' Clary has changed too, of course. He is now 66, his friends are retiring and 'moving into bungalows', and while the wit's still sharp and the claws even sharper, there is a gentleness – almost a gentility – to him. He does, after all, write hugely successful children's books and, now, cosy crime novels. He was a Strictly Come Dancing finalist and won Celebrity Big Brother. He delights in gardening, and is the annual highlight of the London Palladium pantomime. Clary would never call himself a national treasure, and he leaves the epithet 'stately homo' to Crisp, but he gladly calls himself a 'national trinket'. The biographic blurb on his latest book, Curtain Call To Murder, claims he 'lives a reclusive life in Chatham, Kent' and 'recently married Timothée Chalamet'. In reality he lives a minute's walk away from here, with his husband of nine years, Ian Mackley, a film marketer. At home he has two wardrobes, one for his muted 'normal' clothes, another for stage. Never the twain shall meet. 'The showbiz stuff is all in the basement. They smell of sweat. You wouldn't want those next to your own clothes.' The man we know as 'Julian Clary' is not a character (his parents named him Julian after a Benedictine monk), but there is a clear division between the quiet, introverted man in the pub today, and the figure he cuts on stage. The outfits help draw that line, at least in his own mind. 'On tour, definitely. It's all about preserving your energy, so you can be a zombie all day, then about 10 minutes before, the make-up and clothes will be on, and that's when you've got to up your energy levels. There's a certain setting in the brain, to be funny,' he says. 'It all helps, it all makes a statement. It's show business.' Today he has clearly drawn from the normal wardrobe: a black Harrington jacket, black T-shirt, navy trousers and On running shoes. His hair is ashen and feathery, his glasses round. There has always been something delightfully avian about Clary's appearance, but if he was once a glorious peacock, he has become positively owlish. But his health is good. 'Oh, fine. I'm very robust, good genes in my family.' His mother, Brenda, turned 94 this week. They share a love of Antiques Roadshow. 'She's a scream, we will talk every day without fail.' His skin is remarkably smooth – partly a result of those genes, partly a result of 'a man in Harley Street' who fires a laser at his face to stimulate collagen. 'I tried Ozempic, it's not for me' He was also, he has said, 'early on the Botox train'. 'Yes, a long time ago. I think it all makes sense to do those things.' Despite never looking anything other than trim, he's also given Ozempic a go. 'I did try it. It's not for me. I got terribly ill.' But you're so slim, I protest. 'Well, everyone else is on it. What it basically does is slow down your digestion, so food is inside you for a lot longer. My body didn't like that. Reflux. I think often these things are too good to be true.' For a dozen years, until 2019, he really did live a reclusive life in Kent, dividing his time between Camden and Goldenhurst, a 17th-century manor and gardens near Ashford. The house was once owned by Noël Coward, and came to Clary's attention when his old friend Paul O'Grady, who owned a farm in Aldington, the same sleepy village, implored him to join him in the good life. 'I loved that house, I spent 10 years slowly doing it up bit by bit, but it was one of those things where once I'd done it all and sat in it for a few years, I felt done with it. So I sold it on a whim.' The village pub didn't know what had hit it when Clary and O'Grady, who were on the cabaret circuit together in the 1980s, would occasionally install themselves on a Friday evening. But despite having dogs, chickens and ducks, Clary wasn't quite as taken with the countryside as his friend. 'Muddy, isn't it?' he says, grimacing. 'No pavements, no streetlights… I sort of enjoyed it as a contrast to here, but I sold it just before lockdown, and if I'd been able to choose where to spend lockdown, it wouldn't have been the country.' It was also a bit of a faff. 'I've got a little London garden here, which suits me because I can do it all myself. I had to have gardeners in the country, and we never quite got on top of it. It was a beautiful place but it takes over your life. You're serving your house all the time, whereas here' – he flourishes a hand around – 'there's all the rest of life.' He says that, but life in London is quiet. 'I'm 66,' he explains, when I ask where he goes out these days. Having recently finished a sold-out national tour, the Western-themed A Fistful of Clary, his routine now involves getting up early to walk his 'neurotic rescue dog', Gigi, a crossbreed, before writing at home each day. In the past 20 years, Clary's written everything from memoirs to romance novels – or as he termed them, 'dick-lit'. His children's book series, The Bolds, about a family of hyenas living undercover in Surbiton, has sold more than half a million copies since it was published in 2015, and been translated into dozens of languages. He's also adapted it for the stage. It must be lucrative. 'I've often wondered what my children would be like' 'Children's books? Well, the foreign deals get you some money. But you've got to sell a lot of books. I like doing the children's book events, because they don't know who you are, and getting a laugh from a room full of children is as much a thrill as the Palladium.' Clary, it turns out, loves children, and is never more animated than when he learns I have a two-month-old. Over the years, he's come close to being a father, 'but not close enough.' He once revealed that a university girlfriend (a one-off, no need to stop the presses) became pregnant with his child, only to miscarry. Later, in his forties, he considered having a baby with a lesbian friend, or potentially adopting. He has since made peace with it, he says. 'Oh yes, that's for the best. You have a curiosity, you wonder, 'What would my children be like? Would they be nice, take me to the shops?''. Children's books have now given way to a life of crime, with the breezy and extremely unserious A Curtain Call To Murder, which is set backstage at the Palladium. The prologue contains a tongue-in-cheek disclaimer – 'please don't think I'm just another opportunistic slapper whose literary agent told him this was where the money is' – but really that's precisely what happened. 'I do whatever I'm told, I just like writing. I still have the same agent who said, 'It's all about children's books, write something for children.' So I did. And then she said, 'Now it's crime.' So I said oh, why not?'' He shrugs. A sequel's already underway, with the protagonist, Jayne, now working in television – 'another world I know a lot about, and also full of awful people.' Clary's sense of humour has always required a victim, he says. 'Someone to be rude about, whether it's my pianist or someone in the front row.' Growing up with his two older sisters in Teddington, south-west London, his first target was police officer father, Peter. At home, the young Clary and his mother, a probation officer, would be thick as thieves, teasing the others with a lovingly barbed running commentary. 'Me and my mother would be rude to my father, he was the set-up – but for comedy purposes, you understand,' he says. 'He was a kind man, a gentle man. I don't think he really wanted to be a policeman. He did his 25 years and retired. I don't think he liked arresting people and locking them up, that didn't thrill him at all.' It was firmly middle-class, genteel upbringing. All Sunday lunches, camping holidays, pet guinea pigs and duties as an altar boy. The young Clary was both the parish priest's gardener and, latterly, coxswain for the local rowing club. He wrote poetry and plays, and has described himself as 'self-evidently effeminate even as a five-year-old.' 'I probably wasn't exactly what my father had in mind' His parents were 'both quite liberal, and my father was a bit bemused by me, I think. I probably wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but there was never any 'Get out of my house' or anything like that. It was a very happy household, it was all about having a laugh.' Clary was bright, and earned a scholarship at St Benedict's, a Catholic private school in nearby Ealing. There, he was beaten by priests and bullied by his peers, but responded by amping up his fey mannerisms and effeminate nature. With his best friend, Nicholas Reader, who was also gay, he became a quasi-school celebrity. 'Character building. Everything happens for a reason,' Clary says today. At the time, the safety and levity at home made it a sanctuary. 'School was difficult and all of that, but as long as we had a laugh in the evening, that was your sort of reward for getting through the day.' He later found his crowd at Goldsmiths University, in south London, where he studied English and drama before starting in alternative comedy. Always dressed to the nines, often in PVC, he appeared as Gillian Pieface, and later as The Joan Collins Fan Club (the real Joan is now a friend), with his whippet mongrel, Fanny the Wonderdog, as his limelight-stealing sidekick. A TV break, on Saturday Live, came in 1987 before he got his own show, Sticky Moments. Any sexual repression from his teenage years was made up for in his 20s. In Clary's memoir, A Young Man's Passage, he lists a non-exhaustive catalogue of some 60-odd partners, including 'Tony with low self-esteem', 'the newsreader', 'prematurely bald Adelaide boy with hairpiece', 'Sensible Ian' and 'the man from Madrid who pronounced me 'magnifico!'' Such promiscuity came with risks in the 80s, as the Aids crisis took hold. Clary was protected by a bad bout of anal warts, which put him out of action during the height of the tragedy. 'Do your readers want to know about that?' he enquires. 'Well, it's my theory, yes. I felt like I was protected by an unseen force. At a time when unsafe sex would have been a very dangerous thing to do, I was prevented from doing it due to anal warts. That's just a fact.' Plenty of friends weren't so lucky, including Clary's boyfriend, Christopher, who died of the disease in 1991. He writes beautifully about caring for him until the end, all the while attempting to keep a comedy career going. 'I didn't want to let my boyfriend's death defeat me' 'I remember having him very ill at home in bed, with the night sweats, changing his sheets, all of that,' he recalls today. 'And then I'd have to say, 'Well, I've got to go to work now and be funny.' It was very incongruous. I think that kind of helped me, but at the same time it's a kind of denial it was happening at all. 'And then when people die, you sort of think, 'Oh, I must carry on for their sake, I must lead a good life… I didn't want any pity, I didn't want to let it defeat me or define me. I still think that now when people die.' By the early 90s, Clary was being swept along in show business, 'not really knowing what was going on.' Sometimes there was a good reason for that. 'There's a recording I saw of a run of a show we did at the Aldwych where the first half's really slow, and the second half's really manic. I asked my friend about it and she said, 'Yes, that's because we did a joint before the first and a line before the second.'' He laughs. 'But that's what you did in the 90s, it seemed like a good idea at the time.' That all just petered out. 'Yes, I never hit a crisis point, I was too self-aware, and lucky really. For other people it got out of hand. Besides, once you're in your 30s or 40s you start to enjoy being sober and clear-headed. That's quite a nice feeling as well. Who knew?' He was under the influence, specifically of Rohypnol, taken during a period of depression, when he made that Norman Lamont gag in 1993. Ever the perfectionist, it still irks him that the actual punchline – 'Talk about a red box…' – was drowned out by laughter. 'It's not nice, being cancelled' It brought the house down, but in doing so also (briefly) tore down Clary's career. The newspaper front pages declared him 'sick' and 'obscene'. A London Weekend Television executive wrote to him to ban him from live appearances. The moral outrage, despite only 12 viewer complaints, made Clary one of the earliest victims of cancel culture. 'It's not nice, being cancelled. It's not a positive thing. But as I say, everything happens for a reason and I had a nice quiet year after that.' He never dwells on what might have happened if he'd not said it. 'Oh, I'd have said something else the following year, I expect.' Despite being a 'news junkie', he is not particularly politically active. 'But I'm an old leftie, that's where I stand.' What does he make of the current Government? 'Well, if they could lean a bit more to the left, I'd be thrilled.' Moving to the country and growing older did nothing to shift him on the political spectrum. 'No, and my friends haven't either. I don't understand that, but people do get more right wing as they get older, don't they?' That, or they get caught in the weeds of some issues, never to return. I wonder what Clary makes of his friend Boy George's row with JK Rowling over her views on trans people. At this he narrows his eyes. 'I'm on George's side,' he says, simply. There has, he concedes, been 'a fracture' in his generation of performers on the matter. 'I think it's important to know where you stand without bringing a load of hate on yourself. I love and support the trans community and I'm very in favour of strength in numbers for LGBTQI+. We're stronger together.' I have rarely met anyone so sanguine and unruffled. He used to suffer from panic attacks and anxiety, but hasn't done so in years. On Desert Island Discs, his book choice was Stop Thinking, Start Living by Richard Carlson. 'It worked for me. Now, if anyone starts unloading all their misery on me, I just send them the book.' He tried therapy once but found it boring. 'Some people think you've got to deal with your childhood trauma, and that could take years, whereas I think if you just don't think about it…' This attitude is a family trait, he says. 'We're all of a kind, really, we treat life quite lightly, and don't get knocked down by anything. It's quite healthy, but it makes you quite lightweight. If someone wants to have a serious conversation with me, well good luck, because I don't really go in for it now. 'Some people do heavy conversations all the time. Analyse their relationships every Friday… 'This is what you're doing wrong, this is how I'd like you to change…'' He shudders. 'Can't imagine doing that.' Fortunately his husband is on the same page. 'I wouldn't have married him otherwise.' He met Mackley, who is 17 years his junior, on a yacht in Ibiza 20 years ago. A decade later, Clary announced their marriage on social media with a photograph and the line 'On Saturday he slipped his finger into my ring at last. #married.' What would the young Clary have made of that? 'Well, he'd be amazed you can even get married,' he says, but not disappointed he decided to. 'No, promiscuous as I was, I was always looking for love, just in the wrong places.' They'll now live out their days in Camden, he predicts. A book here, a stand-up tour there, the panto, a bit of Just A Minute with his old friend Paul Merton. 'It's enough,' he says. Retirement, though, isn't an option. 'No. I saw Barry Humphries on his last tour, and he was still going at 89.' That's Clary's plan. A smile flickers across his face. 'Can you imagine, buggery jokes at that age?'
The Sun
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Celebrity Catchphrase stumps Derry Girls legend with the final image – but could you have got it?
CELEBRITY Catchphrase has caught out another famous face with a Derry Girls legend getting stumped in the final round. Siobhan McSweeney, who played Sister George Michael in the beloved Channel 4 comedy, appeared on the ITV gameshow hosted by Stephen Mulhern in a bid to raise money for charity. 4 4 The episode, which first aired in 2023, saw Siobhan go head-to-head against EastEnders' star Charlie Brooks and Coronation Street's Dev Alahan actor Jimmi Harkishin in the 'say what you see' guessing game. After making it through to the final round, Siobhan had her skills put to one final test, going against the clock to answer questions on the catchphrase pyramid. Unfortunately, she stumbled right at the Super Catchphrase final question – but would you have any luck? In the clue, three people are exercising next to each other, but while two are doing quite well, a third is looking sad and struggling to keep up and working on bicep curls. On the floor is a painted triangle, square, and circle. Do you get it? Siobhan was unfortunately unable to figure it out in the timeframe, though didn't go home empty handed, earning an incredible £25,000 in the final round. Add that to the £4,500 she had collected already, and that meant she was able to give £29,500 to North London's Maya Centre – a specialist charity offering counselling and holistic support to low-income and minoritised women. After the game was over, host Stephen asked her if she wanted to know what she'd missed out on – but it had already clicked for her. Without the pressure of the clock against her, Siobhan correctly guessed the answer was "Out Of Shape" – as the person struggling was standing outside of the circle in front of them. On top of earning some serious cash for her own charity, Siobhan managed to answer the special double question – meaning that Charlie and Jimmi both got their pot doubled too. Jimmi donated his money Baby Lifeline - which supports frontline NHS staff to prevent injuries and deaths in and around childbirth – while Charlie raised money for breast cancer charity, Future Dreams. 4 4
